


Bucky's Baby

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, F/M, Financial Domination, Money kink, Sub!Bucky, domme!Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-25 12:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: Down on your luck, you meet a man named Bucky - a handsome and wealthy businessman - who changes your life completely.





	1. Barista-ing

**Author's Note:**

> My new series. It's got a lot to live up to after finishing the total awesomeness of The Boss a couple of months ago, but I'm really looking forward to seeing where this one goes!
> 
> Remember, I'll be posting my new multi-chapter works exclusively on here, as opposed to on Tumblr as I'm phasing our posting my work on there.
> 
> Any and all feedback is welcome!

“That’s the third time today you’ve messed up an order, what are you playing at?” your boss, Lana, scolded, getting uncomfortably close to your face so that you were both nose-to-nose. 

You were a barista at your local coffee shop, working part time to pay rent and tuition. Usually, it was easy work. Three shifts each week did the trick and didn’t leave you too tired for your studies. Today, though, with all of your deadlines mounting up at home, you were distracted. Quite terribly, in fact.

The last straw came when you had given a ruggedly handsome but well to-do man an americano instead of an espresso. 

He took the mix up well, trying not to make a scene, quietly getting your attention. But just as you were about to correct the mistake, Lana heard and she swooped. And now, the man looked on, embarrassed, as Lana’s cold hazel eyes were fixed on your’s, tearing strips from you for your error. 

“You’re in no fit state to be working today,” Lana concluded, “go home.” 

Your hands traveled slowly towards the knot in your apron without even thinking about it, unfastening it, not once looking away from Lana. “You know what, Lana? Fuck you. Fuck your job. Fuck the company.” You slipped off your apron and dropped it at her feet, walking away. “Sorry I messed up your order,” you said sincerely as you passed the customer on your way out.

Exiting the coffee shop, you marched three blocks before slumping against the wall of the building on your left. You let out a deep sigh, allowing your eyes to slowly close. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you knew that tears weren’t far away. Then you heard the sound of footsteps closing in at a brisk pace. And then they stopped. Right in front of you.

“I’m so sorry.”

You opened your eyes and the man from the coffee shop was standing there above you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, “are you ok?”

You nodded. 

He held out his hand to help you up. When you were safely on your feet, he studied you for a moment. “Listen, are you busy right now?” he asked. There was a cheeky glimmer in his steel blue eyes.

You simply shrugged. 

“I think I owe you lunch for that,” he said coyly, biting his lip. 

“I don’t know…” you began.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to pull anything. It’s just I didn’t get lunch because your old boss is kind of a bitch and you look like you could do with some cheering up,” he rambled.

You sighed, forcing a more positive expression. “Fine.”

“Great,” he said, smiling warmly, “I know a few good places around here.”

“So, you gonna introduce yourself or what?” you asked, following his lead as you both continued down the street, away from your former workplace.

“Oh, sorry!” he said, extending his hand, “Barnes. James Barnes. But my friends call me Bucky.”

You shook his hand, shaking it and laughing. 

“And what do I call you?” he asked.

You pointed towards your name badge, “you’re not very observant, Mr Barnes, are you?”

Bucky smiled and shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

“So where are we going?” you asked.

“You like Italian?”

“Love Italian.”

“Well there’s a really great place on the next block. I have business lunches there on a weekly basis.”

“Great,” you said. You knew the restaurant Bucky was walking about. You lived across the street from it. It was well above your price range and known for being very exclusive. Still clad in your work attire of jeans and a black shirt, you couldn’t help but feel unprepared for your impromptu lunch date. 

* * *

 

You were underdressed. You didn't belong in this kind of establishment. You felt like a complete fool seconds after entering the restaurant with Bucky.

The restaurant and its patrons screamed opulence. Your eyes darted from glamorous dresses to fine red upholstery and the selection of top shelf booze behind the bar at the back of the room as the hostess led you and Bucky towards the back of the restaurant towards Bucky’s usual private booth. Uneasily, you sat down on the chair he had pulled out for you and picked up the menu, half expecting to not even understand a word of it.

Luckily, the word ‘carbonara’ shone out, reassuring you. You ordered that when the waitress came around. Bucky went for something you couldn’t even pronounce, let alone say.

When a large bottle of wine was delivered to your table, and your glasses were full, the small talk began on your end. You were keen to know just who the hell this man was. After all, he was older, good looking, clearly loaded. And yet, there was no wedding ring. You started with his job.

“So what do you do that allows you to come here on a regular basis?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink. 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, flashing you another beautiful smile. “I don’t mean to brag but I’m the director of a marketing business dealing with high end mens’ fashion. So we approach outlets and publications to feature the brands that we represent.” He paused, shifting his eyes from side to side. “It’s not as fancy as it sounds.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Sounds pretty fancy to me. You must be filthy rich too then.”

“Just a little,” he said, smoothing back the stray strands of dark hair that had fallen from the rest of his tied back mane.

“I’ll admit, now that I know that you work in fashion, I feel very underdressed.”

“You still look beautiful. You look like you could pull anything off,” he reassured. 

You knew he was lying but you still couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through your face at the compliment. Then there was a brief silence.

Luckily, your waitress for the evening saved the moment from becoming too awkward by placing your meals in front of you both. You and Bucky both uttered thank you’s and went back to your waning conversation. 

“So besides barista-ing, what is it that you do?” he asked, unfolding his napkin and placing it over his lap.

“I’m currently in college. I’m an art major. In my first year.”

Bucky nodded, picking up his cutlery. “So you probably needed that job, huh?”

You began to twirl your fork in your pasta, looking down at your plate. “Kinda. It’s nice to be able to pay your rent, you know?” You returned your gaze to him. 

He had seemingly abandoned his meal, hands clasped together, his chin propped on top of them. He looked like he was analysing and memorising every detail of you. But there was a softness in his eyes. Empathy. “I’ve been there. Although things were easier when I was younger. You have to fight tooth and nail for everything these days. Can’t imagine that’s easy.”

You shook your head as you chewed on your food. “Something else’ll come along.”

The small talk continued for the duration of your meal. Bucky told you all about his work, which was far more glamorous than he let on; his friends; and how he got into the fashion industry. He was charming, charismatic and even just a little bit humorous. After he got the bill and paid for the meal, he turned his attention back to you. He had a proposition. 

“You know how you mentioned your rent?” he began. “You weren’t sure if you were going to be able to pay it this month?” 

“Yeah,” you responded slowly.

“How about I give you a small loan? Just to tide you over. You can pay me back when you get back on your feet?”

“Mr Barnes, I couldn’t,” you said.

“Please, I couldn’t see a girl like you in need. Let me get your rent this month.”

“But why?”

“Because you’re doing your best and I like a trier. When people like that are down, those are the ones who truly deserve help. And I want to help.”

“Can I think about this?” you asked.

Bucky nodded, reaching into the pocket of his coat that was draped over his chair. “Of course you can. I understand this whole thing is a little weird, but I feel responsible for the situation you’re in now. It’s the least I can do.” He pulled out his business card and put it on the table. “My number and the address of my business are on there, if you feel like swinging by and letting me know.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the slip of card.

“Take as long as you need,” he said, his eyes tinged with what looked to be worry.


	2. Pancake Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky just keeps making you offers that you'd be stupid to refuse.

Each day, on your way to class, you passed the offices where Bucky’s business was situated and each day, you thought about the offer he made you as you flipped the card between your fingers inside your jacket pocket. But it took you two weeks to pluck up the courage to pay him a visit. 

You weren't sure if it was your mounting bills or the fact that Bucky had so effortlessly made such an impression on you, but suddenly your decision was made.

You made your way through the revolving door and into the vast, empty foyer. It was clean, sterile. Everything was chrome and glass and not much else. In front of the transparent lift shaft, on the other side of the expanse, stood a white reception desk with a woman perched behind it. She was intimidating, with sharp, feline features, accentuated by the slick, dark red ponytail tied at the top of her head. 

This was the second place in Bucky’s world you had entered, and from that, you were certain of one thing: Bucky’s world was completely alien to you.

You wandered towards her.

When she turned her attention to you, you almost froze like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I-I’m here to see Mr Barnes,” you managed to splutter out.

“I’m sorry, Mr Barnes is busy today,” the woman said, almost automatically. 

Your stomach dropped with disappointment after psyching yourself up for your meeting. “Can you at least let him know I’m here?”

“If you would like to see Mr Barnes, then I’m afraid you’ll have to make an appointment by calling ahead.”

“Fine, I’ll call him myself and then I’ll wait,” you huffed, pulling out Bucky’s business card as well as your phone, mentally kicking yourself for having not called ahead anyway.

“Ok, I’ll call up, but I can’t promise anything for today. Like I said, Mr Barnes is a busy man,” she sighed.

“Thank you,” you said, “tell him it’s the girl from the coffee shop. He’ll know who I am.”

* * *

 

It turns out Mr Barnes wasn’t as busy as his secretary let on, because, in the space of five minutes, you found yourself standing inside his office. Actually, it was more like a luxury penthouse suite at some fancy hotel. It was a stark contrast to the foyer. Occupying the entire top floor of the building, the place was just as vast, but it was cosy. Everything was mahogany, arranged on a deep scarlet carpet. He was a reader, that much was apparent from the sheer volume of books perched atop the shelves of a grand bookcase that spanned an entire wall. The books covered everything from fashion trends of centuries past to art history, politics to travel. Three chandeliers lit the room softly, a far cry from the harsh artificial light that pretty much scalded your retinas out of existence when you entered the building. The room was simply stunning. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Bucky asked warmly, turning towards his liquor cabinet to pour you a drink.

“I was thinking about your offer, about my rent. If the offer still stands?” you said, still standing near the entrance to the lift, fumbling your hands together in front of you.

Bucky turned back towards you, flashing you that beautiful smile of his. “Why are you still standing there? Please, take a seat. Of course it still stands.”

Without a word, you made your way across the room and sat on one of the armchairs facing out of the sprawling window on to the city. 

Bucky walked over to join you, handing you a measure of whisky. 

You couldn’t stand the stuff, but you took it anyway. 

He sat opposite you, draining his glass.

Neither of you were sure how to go forward with the conversation. So you sat there, eyeing each other. 

Bucky was undeniably attractive. You could barely meet his gaze. It didn’t take you long before you downed your drink and attempted to explain why you were there. The truth was, you didn’t even know why you were there.

“I just… I was passing and I thought…” you began. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Bucky said, his voice sympathetic. “You want the money?”

You felt so ashamed asking this complete stranger for money but your current situation left you with no choice. You nodded. 

Bucky rose to his feet and wandered over to his desk, pulling out his chequebook and leaning over the surface. “How much is your rent, anyway?”

“Three hundred and fifty.” 

Bucky hesitated, biting his lower lip and thinking for just a moment. Then he put pen to paper. “This should cover your expenses for the month too. Bills, groceries and whatnot.” He straightened up and carefully tore the slip from the book, making his way back over to you. 

You took the cheque from him, looking up at him. “Thank you.” Without looking at the piece of paper, you shoved it into your pocket.

“It’s the least I could do. You want another drink?”

“Sure.”

Bucky took your glass and went back over to his liquor cabinet, pouring you both another drink. When he returned to you, he sat back down.

The words seemed to come out easier now. “Can I ask you something, Bucky?”

“Of course,” he responded, leaning forward slightly.

“Do you often throw money at students like that?”

Bucky smirked. “I’ve never done this before, to tell you the truth.”

You weren’t sure if you should have been relieved that he didn’t make a habit out of it, or weirded out that this complete stranger felt compelled to sign a cheque for your rent. “It’s just that I’m not used to having complete strangers throw that kind of money at me without them expecting something in return, you know?”

“I understand.”

You narrowed your eyes, quirking an eyebrow as you drained your glass. You swallowed hard and sought reassurance: “you don’t want anything from me, do you?”

Bucky laughed quietly and then a look of seriousness washed over him. “I tell you what. If you’re so determined to make it up to me, there is something you could do.”

Your heart sank, dreading the proposition Bucky was about to make. “What’s that?”

“I have to attend an event tomorrow evening, and, being a bit of an introvert, I can’t stand being in a room full of strangers for more than five seconds,” Bucky confided, “would you mind going with me?”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you had been holding. “Thank god, I thought you were gonna ask me something else there!” you sighed. “Will there be free food?’

“I like your style. Dinner’s already included.”

“Ok. There’s also one other glaring problem-”

Bucky seemed to have pre-empted this problem. He raised his hand, stopping you mid sentence. “We can go downstairs now and have you measured. I’ll have shoes and a gown delivered to you tomorrow morning. And then a car to collect you tomorrow evening.”

“Well I guess I have no excuse not to go now.”

* * *

 

You hadn't quite realise just how rich Bucky was until you went to cash the cheque - for $1,000. Far more than you could ever hope to have earned at your job. But it still came as a shock when your outfit for Bucky's event arrived. You had never seen this much needlessly expensive clothing in your life. You couldn't help but feel a slight pang of shame and guilt as you unwrapped the package.

The dress was breathtaking, though. A beautiful periwinkle blue number from the latest Elie Saab collection. Your shoes were stunning too. Ridiculous, but stunning. A pair of gold Stuart Weitzman sandals that you had no clue how you would manage to walk in. Especially when the drinks began to flow. Bucky had great taste, and had even taken the liberty of supplying you with matching lingerie and accessories to complete your look.

“ _… Car will be here at 6PM. Oh and I’ve also included lingerie, hope you don’t mind. Bucky x_ ”

Of course you didn’t mind. This man had given you free designer clothes. Who were you to whine about that?

When you were ready, hair and make up done to a tee, you had little time to wait before a black SUV drew up on the street outside your ground floor apartment. You grabbed your bag and made your way outside.

Bucky was already making his way to the door of your apartment building when you exited. When he caught sight of you, he stopped dead in his tracks, a goofy grin plastered across his features like it was prom night and his date was descending the staircase for the big reveal.

“You look incredible,” he sighed, shaking his head in wide-eyed disbelief. 

So did he. So much so that you could barely form words. Instead you chose to beam and nod and throw your arms around him as if you already knew him so well. As if there was already some level of comfort between the two of you. When you let go of each other, he was still marvelling at you.

“We better get going,” Bucky said, taking your hand and leading you to the car, ushering you inside. 

“So what’s this event all about?” you asked.

“Oh it’s just a party for this fashion magazine we liaise with regularly,” Bucky said, like it was no big deal. 

Truthfully, you were fascinated. And beyond nervous. You really could have done with a drink to calm your nerves. “I’ve never been to anything like this before. How am I supposed to act? Do I just stick by your side? Do I go up and talk to random strangers?” you asked, flailing your hands in front of yourself to illustrate your confusion.

Bucky placed his hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just be yourself and feel free to distract me if I look bored. I’m not that great at this myself.”

“Distract you?”

“Yeah, distract me. Any way you see fit.”

“Don’t give me ideas, Bucky,” you quipped. Even though your mind was swimming anxiously, you caught your thoughts drifting towards what it would be like to strip Bucky of that find black suit at the end of the night. You lost yourself, drawing your eyes over his muscular frame as he stared out the window. You fixated on those dark curls peeking out from the popped collar of his black shirt. Then you thought about how his five o’clock shadow would feel grazing your soft skin. 

* * *

 

You really did lose yourself.

Not noticing that the car had come to a standstill outside the Marriott, or that Bucky had exited the car, you were ripped from your increasingly filthy daydream by Bucky calling your name quietly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you laughed, climbing out of the car.

“Thought we lost you there,” Bucky said, offering you his arm.

“Sorry, I was just thinking of a plan to distract you,” you said, blushing at your own admission.

Bucky shook his head, smiling and scrunching his nose.

Entering the hotel arm in arm, Bucky handed over his invitation to the doorman, then you were ushered through to the conference hall by another man, who looked sort of like a penguin in his tuxedo. The sprawling room looked more like a wedding reception than a networking event, with a sea of beautiful looking people dressed to the nines and the most boring dinner party music you had ever heard droning through the PA. 

“My friend, Alastair, will show you both to your seats,” Penguin Man told you both as he gestured to another penguin looking man. 

When Bucky realised how far away from the door Alastair was leading you both, he leaned into you. “No quick getaways tonight,” he sighed.

You laughed as you reached the very back of the room and took your seats. 

Already at the circular table were three women, all looking like models straight from fashion magazines, with faux-friendly expressions on their faces. In between them, were three sleazy looking men, quite clearly boring the girls to death. You and Bucky exchanged glances before the group began to make conversation with him, completely ignoring your presence. They all, obviously, knew each other. 

But it was clear from Bucky’s face - and his hands - that he didn’t have much time for the mindless chatter between the group. You felt his fingers ghosting up your thigh every now and then and it sent your mind wandering instantly. You didn't know how long it would be before you just had to get some alone time with your date.

When your meal arrived, some sort of seafood dish, there was a lull in the conversation. You leaned in close to Bucky. “Who are these people?” you asked.

“Those three guys,” he began quietly, wagging his finger between the three men who had started tearing apart their dinner, “they’re agents for some of the companies who want me to represent them. And those girls? They’re models who work with those particular brands. But everyone knows they fuck their agents. It's kinda gross.”

“Must be nice, constantly being surrounded by beautiful people all the time,” you shrugged.

“Between you and me, I hate the fashion industry. No one has any substance.”

“Do you?” you asked.

“What?”

“Have any substance?”

“I’m more than my work, yeah.”

It was inexplicable that you were growing bolder in the presence of this man who, handsome for all he was, was no more than a familiar face without a name two weeks ago. “You should probably show me sometime,” you quipped.

Bucky turned to you, his attention completely on you now, smirking. “Did you just ask me out?”

You picked up your glass and took a sip of your wine, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…”

The evening seemed to drag on with complete strangers coming and going, forcing friendliness in the name of business and you by Bucky’s side feeling like a spare part. Your date seemed to be a master at schmoozing with these people; he was charming and engaging, listening keenly to these strangers’ business proposals over quaffing champagne and scoffing what was supposed to be dessert ('JUST DO A WHOLE PORTION OF CHEESECAKE, I NEED A MICROSCOPE TO SEE THIS THING' your mind screamed as you turned down yet another round of untouched tiny cheesecakes). You were both well on your way to being drunk by the time 9PM rolled around. 

When the crowds in the room began to dissipate, Bucky, once more turned your way, leaning against the bar and smiling. 

“What do you want, Mr Barnes?” you groaned jokingly.

“So this date you were talking about…”

“I never said ‘date’.”

“You said ‘maybe’. I heard you,” he said, scooting closer and biting his lip.

Your eyes met his. But then you were rudely interrupted by another stranger clearing his throat. You shot your eyes on to a tall, fair haired man who was standing next to you both.

Bucky looked at him, the edges of his full lips curling upwards. “Steve,” Bucky began, pulling the man into a hug, “it’s been so long. Last time I saw you was…”

“The Gucci campaign. Two years ago, right?”

“Yeah!”

Steve looked at you and then back to Bucky, “new assistant?”

“Something like that,” Bucky said, draping his arm around your waist.

Steve’s expression was sly as he nodded in approval.

“Steve! Afterparty! You coming?” called a petite redhead who was on her way out of the room, following another outpouring of people.

“Be right there, Nat!”

Bucky furrowed his brow and pointed in the direction of the group, “is that-“

“Russian actress, Natalia Romanova? Why yes it is,” Steve grinned, puffing out his chest. “You two wanna join us?”

Bucky looked at you and then back at Steve, “I think we have other plans, if you know what I mean,” he said, nudging him in the arm.

Steve laughed and began to make his way towards the door. “See you around Buck!”

“Take care, Steve!”

You both breathed a sigh of relief as you were once again alone together. 

“So tell me, Buck, what other plans do you have for me?” you asked.

“Well, that depends on how busy you are in the morning,” Bucky said, gently brushing his fingers over your jawline.

Your stomach tied itself in knots as you looked up at him, completely unsure if this was the right thing to do. It was so unlike you. You barely knew him, but you couldn’t help but lean into him, hands trailing up his chest, clasping themselves behind his neck, pressing your lips against his.

It lasted just a moment before Bucky broke away. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded.

* * *

Bathed in a yellow haze, you woke up the next morning, still naked, to an empty bed and the startling sight of midday on the clock that stood on the nightstand beside you. Next to the clock were a box of painkillers, a glass of water and an envelope with your name on it. 

Bucky had clearly pre-empted that you would be hungover. The sign of a good night.

You hauled your legs over the edge of the plush king bed and picked up the envelope. It was weighted, the outline of a key was quite clear without even opening the envelope. You ran your fingers under the seal. Along with the key was a note: ‘ _Sorry I had to leave so early for work. Had a great time last night. Help yourself to breakfast and feel free to call my driver to take you home, the number’s at the bottom of the note and you can give the key back to him, Bucky x…. P.S, I’ve had some clothes delivered so you don’t have to go home in the gown. They’re in the closet.’_

The man was strangely trusting, you thought, only to quickly shrug that off as the need for food took over. You popped two painkillers and downed the water Bucky had left for you. Then you slid off the bed and grabbed the first thing that came to hand to cover yourself - a cosy, white bathrobe hanging from the door - before embarking on your journey towards the kitchen. 

Expecting to find the apartment empty, you received the shock of your life when you wandered into the kitchen to find Bucky sitting at the island, his back to the door, calmly sipping away at a cup of coffee. You let out a shocked squeal and his head whipped around, upsetting the pretty picture he painted; hair loosely tied up, the sleeves of his light blue shirt rolled up to the elbows, the fabric hugging his frame to perfection. Even the dark circles under his eyes didn’t look odd or unattractive. 

“Well if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty,” he smirked, “I thought you were dead in there.”

“Sorry Bucky,” you blushed, going over to him. 

He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek. You couldn’t help but melt into him in your delicate state, rubbing your hand gently over his chest and nuzzling against his neck.

“Thought you were at work?” 

“I did everything I needed to do at the office today. And anyway, I figured I had better check up on you. Thought I might have heard from you by now.”

“How considerate.”

“I know,” he purred, kissing your temple, “you want some breakfast?”

“Sure, what’s on the menu?” you asked, freeing yourself from his arms and heaving yourself up on to the stool beside him. 

“I feel like pancakes,” he nodded, winking at you.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Help yourself to some coffee,” he said, sliding the pot your way, “I’ll grab you a cup.”

You watched on sleepily as Bucky slipped off his seat and set about putting together your breakfast for you from scratch, quietly enjoying the warmth of the steaming cup of coffee in your hands. 

Bucky was courteous enough to have afforded you a little time to perk up before he continued the conversation. 

“So last night, huh?” Bucky said as he slaved away over your pancakes, his back to you.

“Yeah, last night.”

“You know, I don’t really do that. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression of me.”

“What? That you’re an animal in bed? I could tell that by looking at you, Bucky,” you joked.

You heard Bucky chuckle. “No I mean, I don’t generally sleep with people I barely know. It’s kind of hard to develop enough trust in this industry anyway, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you never see any action,” you continued to tease him.

“Well it’s true. I don’t. Not these days. And I’m not into models so my options are pretty limited. I mean, I have needs,” he rambled, laughing at how absurd he sounded.

“So I just scratched an itch?” you asked, feigning outrage. “Is that all I am to you, Mr Barnes?”

Bucky turned back to you holding two plates carrying tall stacks of pancakes.  “Yeah, but there’s a difference,” he said as he placed your plates on the counter, “I actually like your company.”

You narrowed your eyes at Bucky.

He smiled, leaning on the island across from you. “You know, I think this could be beneficial for both of us.”

“What?” you asked through a mouthful of pancakes. 

“Well we both have things to offer each other.”

You raised an eyebrow. The other day, this kind of proposition was something that you dreaded. But if Bucky was willing to pay your rent, fuck you into oblivion and STILL make you breakfast the next day, who were you to complain?

“I mean, I can help you out with your rent and any expenses you have. And you can keep me company at those god awful industry events and… you know… I mean, it doesn’t even have to…” Bucky began to have trouble punching the words out, or rather, choosing them more carefully so as not to sound like a complete sleaze ball. 

“So you’d be like my sugar daddy?” you joked.

Bucky couldn’t contain his laughter at that line. He moved around to sit beside you again. “God, that sounds so sleazy. But that’s exactly what this is would be, essentially. Are you down? I mean we can hash out terms later so that we get exactly what we want out of it.”

“Ok. But, just know that I’m high maintenance, ok? I expect diamonds and maybe a Lexus for my birthday,” you said, wagging a finger in his face.

Bucky was still laughing quietly as he placed his hand at the small of your back and leaned into you, “after last night, you can have anything you want, baby.”


	3. Terms and Conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky meet to discuss the terms of your arrangement when he throws you a curveball regarding his own preferences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee short chapter this time. Enjoy!

You and Bucky had planned to meet at his office after your classes for the day were over. The pair of you were going to hash out the specifics of whatever it was you were about to embark on together.

Prior to meeting Bucky, having a sugar daddy was something you and your friends would often joke about when you were hard up, but in reality, if a man, much older than you, ever tried anything with you, it would creep you out to no end. But this was different. Bucky was different. You had only known him for a short time, but he didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, he was handsome and he didn’t seem to have any serious baggage. Most importantly of all, he was eager to spoil you - materially, financially and otherwise - in exchange for your company. Who were you to stand in his way?

Inside the clinical looking foyer of Bucky’s company, you approached the front desk, walking towards the feline looking woman once more. You cleared your throat: “Can you tell Mr Barnes his 4 o’clock appointment is here, please.”

For the first time in, what you assumed to be, her life, she cracked a small smile, recognising you. “Go on up, he’s expecting you.”

The doors to the lift slid open when you reached the top floor. Bucky was already waiting patiently behind his desk, feet propped up on the surface. He smiled as you neared him. 

“How was class?” he asked, sitting up straight with his feet on the floor. 

“Same as always. Dull. Pointless. Tested my will to live,” you shrugged, slumping down into the chair opposite Bucky.

He nodded towards the bottle of whisky on his desk, “you want a drink?”

“Sure,” you said, “you know, you’re gonna have to get a better collection of drinks if I’m gonna be paying you visits more often.”

“You don’t like whisky?” Bucky asked, pouring you both a measure.

“Not really,” you admitted, taking your glass. 

“Noted,” he said, raising his glass, “here’s to us.”

In unison, you drank and set your glasses down at exactly the same moment, smiling at each other. 

“So this arrangement,” you began, shifting forward in your chair, “have you thought of exactly what you’d like from me?”

“I’ve thought of nothing but what I’d like from you,” Bucky joked, “but seriously. I’d rather you told me what you need first.”

That was the thing, you felt guilty asking outright. “Well I guess money for my rent would be nice, and if I needed books for school too since those are pretty expensive.”

Bucky listened intently, nodding at your suggestions. “What about an allowance in addition to that? If I require your company for events, I need you to look the part and an allowance could go towards that.”

With wide eyes, you agreed: “Sure.”

“How does two thousand bucks sound? In addition to rent and books.”

“Yeah, thank you. I can’t help but wonder what you’d expect from me for that kind of money though.”

“Well, it goes without saying that I’ll need you to accompany me to events as well as the sexual aspect of things. But do you have anything you’re not willing to do?”

“I don’t really know,” you said, furrowing your brow, trying to think of the least desirable situation Bucky could put you in.

“I should warn you that some of my sexual preferences are quite unconventional so you have every right to say no. I won’t be mad, I won’t take anything from you, it’ll be ok,” Bucky said, a look of concern in his eyes. 

You narrowed your eyes. “What exactly are you gonna make me do?”

“It’s not so much what I’m gonna make you do,” he sighed. “It’s more… how can I put this? What you want me to do. I’m much more into following orders than giving them out when I’m in private,” His cheeks flushed red at his reluctant admission as he cast his gaze away from your’s.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” you said.

Bucky cut you off. “I get off on pleasing women and having them be in charge, yeah. Among other things.”

“Such as?”

Bucky smirked sheepishly, “well lots of things. Bribery, denial, manipulation. I’m a little bit of a masochist and I like having an element of fear in there, where I’d really have to trust you. Even just the act of being of use to you financially is a little bit of a turn on for me, you know?”

You nodded, allowing the information to sink in. He really didn’t seem like the type. 

“I’m sorry if that’s not something you’re into. I’ll totally understand if you’re not.”

“It’s just odd to me. I’ve never been put in a position like this before. I’ve always been so used to someone else taking the lead, I honestly wouldn’t know what to do,” you admitted, “But I’m definitely open to trying this out.”

Relieved, Bucky smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

You held your hands up, “it’s me who should be thanking you. I was half expecting you to want to turn me into some live-in sex doll.”

“Oh no, you’re way too good for that,” Bucky laughed.

“So I guess I’ll have to come up with a better title for you than my sugar daddy,” you pondered.

“I kinda like being called daddy,” he pouted, a glimmer in his eyes.

“Daddy it is then," you laughed. “Have you done this before?”

Bucky shook his head. “I have, but there’s never been money involved. I used to dabble in all sorts of things when I was younger and finally got more comfortable in a more submissive headspace. There’s so much to learn though, so I guess what I need from you is for you to be responsible about this and try to learn as much about how to approach this kind of thing in a safe way.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Good; you want another drink?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “are you busy tomorrow?”

Bucky got to pouring you another measure of whisky, glancing up at you when you posed that question. “Meetings all morning. I’m in the office until two, why?”

“I was thinking maybe we could grab a late lunch and then spend some time together tomorrow evening,” you suggested.

Bucky slid your glass back over to you. “Sounds like a plan. Got any classes tomorrow?”

You took a gulp, the whisky burning your throat. “Day off.”

“Good,” Bucky began, reaching into a drawer in his desk. He placed a credit card on the desk and slipped to you. “Why don’t you take this and do some shopping tomorrow before our date?” he smiled.

You eyed the card and then looked at him, “Do you have a limit on how much?”

Bucky shook his head, “Go to town. You deserve it.”

You took the card and leaned back in your seat, flipping it through your fingers. “I really do, don’t I? Maybe you should come shopping with me after lunch. I think I’m gonna need you there to carry my bags and to tell me how good I look while I’m spending your money,” you mused.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”


	4. Yes, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahead of your date with Bucky you decide to reward him for spoiling you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one!

After your meeting, you went home to do some research on what Bucky had asked of you.

You sat cross legged on your bed with your laptop in front of you and google pulled up on the screen, munching your way through a bag of potato chips. You sighed, thinking of where to begin. Your fingers hovered over the keys for a moment and then began typing: “ _do submissive sugar daddies exist?_ ”

The results worried you, with pages about grown men relinquishing control over their finances and other, more extreme forms of domination. You didn't bother looking at those results.

Then you searched again: “ _dominant sugar babies._ ”

Biting the bullet, you clicked on the first result and landed on a page where users shared their experiences.

Some talked about that kind of dynamic manifesting itself solely where financial matters were concerned; others explained that their own dynamics were a part of their everyday lives with the dominant partner having total control over the submissive partner’s spending; then there were people who got sexual gratification from spoiling others or being spoiled. The latter sounded most like what Bucky had mentioned, although you couldn’t be too sure. But, from what you gathered, there was one thing that you were certain of: your arrangement with Bucky was just as uncommon as you had anticipated it to be. And it made your stomach churn. With not much to go on, no guidance on how to move forward, you sighed again. Then you picked up your phone.

He picked up instantly. “Hey, is everything ok?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah. Listen, I’m just doing some research into what we talked about earlier and I’m sort of confused,” you said.

“What’s up?”

“Ok, so I’m on this forum, right? And they’re talking about what their experiences are. I’m just wondering what you expect from this? I just need some guidance I guess. Is it more of a sexual thing or a control thing on my part? I mean there are guys out there who give their partners all their bank details. Does that seem a little crazy to you?”

Bucky laughed quietly, “You thinking of hijacking all my bank accounts?”

“Not at all. You don't have to worry about that. I need to know how much of this is going to affect our everyday lives,” you explained.

“I’d prefer it if it was mainly a sexual thing. I’m really keen to explore some of that with you. But I do also like the idea of you making me spend money on you, if that makes sense?”

“Thank god. Some of the stories people are sharing on here gave me the creeps.”

“I know. Some people do go to extremes,” he agreed, "you get that with any kind of kink though."

“Ok. Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Of course. Why don’t I take you somewhere nice?”

“Great. I’ll have to go pick up something to wear in the morning. But I’ll swing by your office at two. Have a reservation made for three. Be ready, ok?”

“Ok, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night.”

You gave a sigh of relief as you hung up, feeling like you were better prepared to move forward with whatever this was that you had agreed to. Turning your attention back to your laptop, you continued your research into the sugar baby lifestyle as well as the dynamic Bucky wanted you both to have. The more you read, the more nervously excited you got about the situation you found yourself in.

* * *

Armed with the credit card Bucky slipped you the previous day, you embarked on a morning of trailing around the swankiest shops in town. Now was your time to well and truly wow your new sugar daddy.

Your first stop was Lou’s - the opulent department store, situated in the middle of the hustle and bustle of town. Lou’s was known for stocking all manner of designer labels across its five grand floors. But there was one problem, you had never been in there before, owing to the fact that it was always well out of your price range.

As you entered through the store’s tall green doors, you felt a chill of unwelcome hit you, like the eyes of each assistant had fixed themselves to you. You scanned the ground floor, getting your bearings, unsure if the feeling was all in your mind.

“Can I help you?” a short, bespectacled, man with a moustache asked.

Truthfully, you didn’t want help. But, reasoning that if you got help you’d be out of there quicker, you decided to tell him exactly what you were after. “I’m meeting my partner later on for lunch and I’d like to surprise him,” you reluctantly admitted. You caught sight of the man’s name tag; Morris.

“Of course. If you’d like to come with me and we’ll head up to womenswear,” he said, gently taking your arm and leading you over to the escalator towards the first floor, “do you have any preferences? Designers? Cuts?”

“Honestly, I have no idea, I’m not much of a fashion person,” you said, “although my partner did send me a beautiful Elie Saab gown for an event and it was perfect.”

Morris looked impressed, “we have some Elie Saab in, actually if you want to have a look.”

The pair of you reached the top of the escalator. “I was thinking of something a little more suited to a daytime meeting,” you added.

Morris’ eyes lit up in realisation, “I may have something in mind for you, now, hear me out. The new Zuhair Murad line came out recently and we have a few pieces in stock right now. I’m thinking all black, very sexy, but also understated. Slim fit pants, figure hugging top.”

“Now that’s more my thing,” you said as Morris picked up the garments and began to lead you over to the fitting rooms.

“How do you know my size?” you asked.

“I have a good eye for these things, now, take your time and let me know if you need anything else, I’ll be right out here,” Morris said, opening one of the booths for you and handing you the pair of black velvet trousers and a black, long sleeved top with fine silver threads woven into it.

 _Morris did have a good eye_ , you thought as you surveyed your reflection in the full length mirror. The outfit was stunning, hugging every curve in the most delicious fashion. Not only that but it made you feel taller, more confident and far sexier. This would be perfect for your afternoon with Bucky.

* * *

You felt like a million dollars as you strutted into Bucky's office. Something about your new - ridiculously expensive - getup had you all fired up, making you feel more assertive than ever before.  

As always, you caught Bucky lounging back at his desk chair, but he soon jumped to attention when you entered the room, his mouth agape and his eyes trailing all over your figure. He was rendered totally speechless.

You walked over to him slowly, reaching out and taking his navy blue tie in your hand. “You ready for our date, daddy?”

Bucky nodded, still unable to find words to express how you looked.

“You like what you see?” you purred, your face inching closer to his.

He nodded again.

Then you yanked at his tie, bringing him nose to nose with you. You could hear his breathing hitch slightly. “Use your words, daddy,” you scolded.

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he said slowly, running his hands up and down your waist.

You quickly sidestepped Bucky, moving out of his grasp, and continued walking over to his desk. You leaned back against it, Bucky still eyeing you intently. “I think you deserve a little reward, daddy,” you said.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Well, since it was you who paid for this,” you began, flourishing your hand over your body, “you deserve a little treat. But I need you do another thing for me right now, just so I can be sure.”

“Anything.”

“Why don’t you crawl on over here,” you said, unfastening the top button of your trousers and shimmying out of them. You perched yourself on the desk and watched as Bucky dropped to his knees and crawled towards you.

When he arrived between your legs, he rose to his haunches and instinctively ran his hands up your thighs.

Just as they were about to reach the waistband of your sheer, black panties, you stopped them. “Not just yet daddy. I need to know if you really want your treat. I need you to beg for me. Put on a little show for me, daddy.”

Bucky sat back on his knees and undid his belt, then his slacks, keeping eye contact with you, awaiting another command.

“That’s right, touch yourself for me.”

His cock was already hard when he took it in his hand and gently began to work his shaft, his eyes fluttering closed and his head tilting back. He sighed. “I think I told you to beg, daddy,” you said, running your own hand over your pussy, “I’m getting a little impatient.”

“Please, baby,” Bucky said, returning his eyes to you.

Your hand slipped underneath your panties, drawing your fingers over your folds. You were completely soaked at the sight of Bucky, his attention trained on you, eager to obey you.

“What do you want, daddy?”

“I want you so much, baby,” he groaned, a pleading look in his eyes as he worked his cock, “I want to taste you, to please you so bad.”

You continued to relish the sight of him slowly coming undone in front of you, as your fingers zeroed in on your clit, slick with your juices.

“Please,” he repeated.

“Come here daddy,” you said, removing your hand from your panties and bringing your glistening fingers to Bucky’s mouth. “Lick them clean for me.”

Bucky eagerly took each finger in his mouth, licking and sucking them until there was no trace of your arousal on them. With each digit he edged closer to his peak, that much was clear from the satisfied moans be elicited, his eyes closed in bliss.

“You like that?” you asked, removing your fingers from his mouth with a pop. 

“You taste so good, baby. I’m so close too.”

Your grasp tightened around Bucky’s jaw, your expression quickly turning serious, “don’t you dare come until I give you permission, daddy. You want to be good, don’t you?”

“Yes baby,” Bucky responded, removing his hand from his cock.

“I didn’t say stop touching yourself though, did I?”

Bucky’s hand reluctantly returned to his cock, slowly stroking it again.

“You wanna taste the real thing now, daddy?”

“Yes please baby. Please let me taste you,” he begged again, his eyes lighting up.

You smiled wickedly as you slid off the desk and slipped out of your underwear. Grabbing a fistful of Bucky’s hair, you guided his mouth to your pussy where he began trailing his tongue over your slit with need, weaving it expertly between your delicate pink folds. “Fuck,” you hissed, grinding your cunt against his face.

Bucky just groaned in response, sending a shiver through your entire body. His hand continued to pump away at his cock, muscles tensing, hips writhing desperately to distract himself, not allowing himself to succumb to his own orgasm. That sight in itself was practically a work of art.

“Daddy, oh god,” you mewled as his lips pursed around your clit, tongue darting away over it. “Keep going, daddy. Make me come. I’m almost there,” you coaxed as you reached your peak with fingers gripping his hair tightly.

Moments later, you backed away from Bucky to steady yourself against the desk. As the haze in your mind cleared, your attention was turned back to Bucky, who was still on his knees, dutifully stroking his cock, eyes squeezed shut, teeth tugging away at his lower lip, chest heaving.

“Daddy,” you cooed, stepping into your underwear, “it’s time to go on our date. And if you spoil me how I see fit, I might even finish you off later.”

Bucky let go of his cock, and breathlessly looked up at you as you pulled up your trousers.

You grabbed another handful of his hair as you stood above him. “Would you like that?”

“Yes baby.”

“That’s what I like to hear, daddy.”


	5. Getting What You Want (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Submissive by nature, you struggle to go along with the dynamic of your arrangement with Bucky. So you hatch a cunning plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry it's been a while since my last update. I'm super busy, working full time. I don't know when I'll be updating again; I've just been feeling really tired and uninspired and I haven't written in about a month of so now, so this probably isn't my best work. I hope you enjoy.

Bucky sat across from you inside his favourite dinner joint, listening intently to you chatting away about your day. Your classes had knocked the stuffing out of you and assignments were kicking the crap out of you; you couldn’t stop yourself as you let rip, sinking glass after glass of wine. 

For some reason, you felt comfortable doing this with Bucky as he nodded in agreement with everything you said. But what caught you off guard, as the wine got to work, was the softness in his expression. Complete and utter investment and devotion.

“What’s up with your face?” you asked, taking a sip of your fifth large glass of wine.

“Nothing, you’re just cute when you tell stories.”

“Was I cute earlier?” you asked, winking at him.

“Now that was something else,” he smiled, “I loved that.”

You settled back in your chair and silently smirked at him.

“So what does a guy have to do for you to let him finish? Or do you just enjoy teasing?”

“Get the bill and I’ll show you, daddy.”

Darting in and out of every high end boutique in town, you wanted to see how far you could push Bucky. You didn’t want to admit it, but after the day you had had, all you wanted was for him to finally snap and drag you back to his apartment. Instead, Bucky dutifully followed you as you weaved your way through rails of dresses, bags, shoes and coats, loading them into his arms without even looking at a price tag once. He patiently waited outside the fitting rooms for you to emerge, and then the clothes would go right back into his arms for him to pay for them. Then, of course, he would carry your bags to the next store, and the next, and the next. 

He was enjoying this far too much for your liking so you decided to ramp up the pressure on him. You took the next left, leading him down an darkened alleyway.

The Pleasure Chest was, quite literally, a hidden gem in this city. The adult store was every kinkster’s dream, and you wanted to know what really made Bucky tick.

The pair of you stood outside the shop’s obnoxiously red doors in silence. Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. “We’re going here?”

“Yes,” You smiled sweetly, “is there a problem, daddy?”

The Pleasure Chest was so packed full of kinky paraphernalia that you could barely navigate your way around the store. It smelled like rubber and cigarette smoke and, to make matters worse, the place was dimly lit, causing Bucky to bump into the store’s wares with the overflowing bags from your shopping trip. Bucky blushed as he quickly shoved the rogue dildos back on to the shelves. 

You turned to him. “So, daddy, I have something I’d like you to do for me.”

“Anything, baby,” he said, his cheeks still flushed. 

“I’m kind of bored with shopping. Why don’t you pick up a few things and I can go back to your place just now to wait for you?”

Bucky smiled, fumbling around in his pocket for his keys. He placed them in the palm of your hand. “Is there anything in particular you’d like from here?” he asked, sheepishly casting his eye around the room.

“Go wild,” you said, taking your bags from Bucky’s grasp, “I’ll give you another hour.”

The walk back to Bucky’s place was a short one. Just two blocks, five minutes, and you were standing in the chilly, unwelcoming lobby of his apartment building, waiting on the lift to the penthouse. The last time you were there, you had woken up groggy and alone, not wanting to pry, you had left in a hurry. But this time was different. The time you had offered an opportunity to see how Bucky lived, to gather clues about his life beyond business and his kinks and fetishes. 

Of course, it was exactly as you remembered it. The expansive windows offered a breathtaking view of the city for miles ahead. Every surface gleamed and there was little in the way of clutter. It was a huge, empty, impersonal space on first glance. But as you set your bags down on the floor and began wandering further into the open plan living space, small details caught your attention. Framed artworks of the New York City skyline hung on the walls, you assumed, from the same artists. A record collection spanning everything from Tom Petty to Pearl Jam was neatly arranged in the cabinet adjacent to the window. And then a collection of black and white photographs, peppered across the room. You picked up a photograph of two women from the table next to the plush leather sofa. They both looked uncannily like Bucky. You figured they were his mother and sister, although, Bucky had never spoken about his family in any great detail before. 

Somehow, a weight had been lifted for having found those tiny snapshots of Bucky’s life beyond what you knew of him. 

You set the picture back down again and picked up your bags, making your way down the hall towards Bucky’s bedroom. 

By this point, you were growing impatient. You threw your bags on the bed and pulled out your phone to check the time. It had only been twenty five minutes since you had parted ways with Bucky, but you needed him there with you. You sighed, debating whether you should wait for Bucky or ask him to come back early. 

Darting your eyes across the room as you thought, they came to rest on the rogue pair of panties that had fallen out of its bag. It was inexplicable, but that was the thing that had you frantically typing away, trying subtly to demand his company. “If you come home early, I’ll model some of those pretty panties you bought me. You don’t wanna miss this one, daddy. I’m giving you 20 minutes,” you wrote. 

You gave Bucky 20 minutes, but of course, he was there in ten, standing in the doorway to his bedroom wearing one of his dorky little smirks. 

You, in contrast, had changed into one of the fine lingerie sets Bucky had bought you earlier, wearing next to nothing. 

Bucky dropped the bag from The Pleasure Chest at his feet as you stalked towards him. 

“You want to finally get off, daddy?” you purred against his neck, dragging your nails down his chest.

“Yes please, princess,” he sighed, closing the gap to kiss you.

“I need you to do something for me first,” you said, breaking the kiss just as Bucky’s hands began to roam.

"Anything."


End file.
